


Wave On Wave

by Sirisays



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deaf Character, Deaf Culture, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirisays/pseuds/Sirisays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta Mellark is a deaf baker who just got out of a bad relationship. He didn't want or plan to fall in love--let alone with a hearing girl with more issues than he can count.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wave On Wave

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I couldn't do this without my beta ModernlifeofAsh or without the support of my friend Ameiko. This is my first time writing HG fiction, so please let me know what I am getting wrong. 
> 
> Also, please note that I am writing using the English translations of sign not the actual grammatical format. ASL is as different from spoken English as Japanese is. It is a rich beautiful language that I not only teach but use quite frequently as a hard of hearing person. 
> 
> Italics indicate sign, "Italics in quotes mark that both speech and sign are being used"

 

Wave on Wave

Chapter 1

 

I don't believe that things are planned out to the final detail by God or fate. There are too many random misfires and miscommunications for me to believe that every little thing was predestined to happen exactly as it does. It seems a little foolish to me that someone could think that my choice to use skim instead of whole milk on my cereal in the morning was the catalyst for some tragic string of events half a world away, planned out by an infinite being who just really enjoys watching the proverbial shit hit the fan. No, that line of belief isn't for me.

 

However, I couldn't help but wonder if just maybe I wasn't meant to meet Katniss Everdeen.

 

It all started as a rather normal spring morning. My brothers and I worked through the pre-dawn hours baking the day’s worth of goods before loading a large portion of them on my truck for the local deliveries. Our bakery, Mellark and Sons, was responsible for supplying bread and deserts to about half of the restaurants in town. The idea to sell to local businesses had been mine—one of my best ideas, might I add—and had meant the difference between thriving and going under like many of the other “mom and pop” places around. Being that I was the one who pushed for the deliveries, it was only fitting that I was the one to drive the truck.

 

Most of my stops were quick. I dropped off what they ordered, checked the invoices, and demanded payment when needed. I had known most of our customers for years, and it was always nice to see familiar faces. Still, there was an awkwardness to the majority of these meetings. No matter how long I had known some of the locals, I was always an outsider in their eyes. That was why my last stop was always my favorite.

 

“Annie's” was a newer restaurant that opened up right along the water side. The chef and owner, Finnick Odair, had won some foodie reality show a couple of years earlier and become almost like a rock-star of the culinary world. When he'd opened up his own place in town, it had been just about the biggest thing to come to town in quite a while. Tourists and locals alike lined up around the block to try it out. Despite the fact that Finnick could have easily hired a pastry chef and made all of the breads in house, he chose to go through us. He claimed that the stuff we made was better than anything he could turn out; however, the truth was that Finnick was a believer in local suppliers. From the fish right off of the boats to the produce driven in by the farmers, he wanted to help support the little guys. It was something about him that I respected immensely.

 

I pulled my truck up to the loading zone and rang the buzzer to the back door. As always, Finnick answered the door himself wearing his apron that already wore the signs of his early prep work.

 

“ _Good morning,”_ he said and signed at the same time. Of all of the hearing people I knew outside of my family, Finnick and his wife Annie were the only one who ever bothered to learn even the most basic signs—something that instantly earned them my friendship.

 

I returned the greeting and pointed to the open back of the truck. _I brought extra day old loaves for croutons, if you want them._

 

“ _Slow down,”_ he told me. He repeated the sign for “croutons.” “I don't know that one.”

 

I finger-spelled the word and repeated the sign again.

 

“ _Croutons. I understand.”_

 

We unloaded the truck quickly. Annie's was by far the biggest order of the day, and having him help me unload made the job much easier. When we were done, Finnick and I sat down at one of the booths with cups of coffee. After two years of delivering to Annie's, it had become a ritual that we both looked forward to everyday—though neither of us would admit to it.

 

“ _How is the girlfriend?”_ he asked.

 

Hiding my annoyance as best I could, I just shrugged. I wasn't in the mood to talk about Glimmer.

 

Finnick laughed. “ _Enough said._ ”

 

_Where's Annie?_ I asked, changing the subject.

 

“ _She'll be here soon. The babysitter was late today._ ”

 

Suddenly, Finnick's head snapped around. I followed his gaze to the source of whatever sound he had heard, and spotted the girl standing in the entry way.

 

“New hire,” he told me, glancing back.

 

_Go,_ I told him. _I'll clean up._

 

As I took the coffee cups to the dish station, I sent a glance toward the girl. She was thin with long, dark hair. I wouldn't call her classically beautiful, but there was something about the way she moved that intrigued me. Being deaf for most of my life, I had learned to read people's movements pretty accurately. I noted how she bit at her lip just a little and how she pushed at the hair falling from her braid. Still, her eyes were holding Finnick's gaze. This girl reminded of a deer poised to run, but at the same time I could see a hint of steel to her. I smiled when I imagined Finnick trying to charm her the way he did most of the women around.

 

With my time at Annie's cut short, I made it back to the bakery while the morning rush was still in full swing. There was a line almost out the door and not a single spot left own in the parking lot. It was a good sign for the business, but still not my favorite sight. I preferred to keep to the back of the bakery and avoided dealing with customers whenever possible. That day, though, it looked like I had to.

 

I went in through the back and tossed on an apron. Rye was loading up a tray of bagels when I came in, and tossed me a relieved smile.

 

“ _We're out of muffins too,_ ” he told me.

 

I nodded and grabbed a tray of blueberry muffins as I followed him out. Smiling at a few of the regulars as I went by, I began restocking the empty spots while my father and brothers waited on the customers.

 

Mellark and Sons Bakery had been passed down from my great-grandfather, <and was> a matter of pride for the whole family. The bakery was built in the twenties and still looked much the same as it did at its opening, right down to the scarred up wooden counter. Much like the building, many of the customers had been coming for so long that they felt like integral parts of the bakery as well. The woman my father was waiting on, Mrs. Parker, had been coming to the shop since she was a little girl and just celebrated her eightieth birthday.

 

The rush ended just before eleven, and the four of us were finally able to slow down a bit. My brothers began sorting through the special order slips, while I helped my father clean up a bit. Dad was always the sort to stay on top of things. If he spotted so much a crumb on the work stations, he was right there with a rag wiping it away. The numbers didn't matter near as much to him as keeping the integrity of the place going. I guess I was more like him than I realized at times.

 

“ _Feeling all right?_ ” Dad asked, setting his broom aside. Though, he hadn't asked anything about Glimmer and I directly, I think he knew that things were not going very well between us. Dad wasn't Glimmer's biggest fan, but he usually didn't force his opinions when they weren't wanted.

 

_O.K._ I signed quickly. _Just a bit tired._

 

He nodded. _“Go home. Your brothers and I can handle things for today.”_ I raised my hands to argue, but he waved me off. _“Go. Clear out your head, and come back tomorrow.”_

 

On my way out of the bakery, I checked my text messages and wasn't surprised to see that there were several. I shoved my phone back in my pocket without reading any. Procrastinating wasn't something I usually I allowed myself to do, but I couldn't help wanting to put off talking to her for as long as possible.

 

I'd met Glimmer at the North Carolina School for the Deaf when we'd both been just grade school kids, but we hadn't exactly been friends the whole time. She came from a family that could have been pulled right off of a Deaf Pride poster, and I had been hearing until I was six. I didn't sign as well as the other kids in my grade—something she let me know more than once. It wasn't actually until high school that I started to think differently about her. Glimmer was the hottest girl in school. Shallow as it was, that was why we started dating. Even nine years of dating later, I still wasn't a hundred percent sure why we were together.

 

I went back to my apartment a few blocks away and flopped down on my bed. I couldn't even remember the last time I had gotten to just be lazy. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep. I think I would have slept through the evening, but someone else had plans for me. The lights above me flickered and woke me.

 

My gut told me who was at the door long before I looked through the peep-hole. Glimmer certainly didn't disappoint. I didn't want to open the door, but I knew that ignoring her was useless. She'd seen my car in its spot and wasn't dumb enough to think that I wasn't home. I reluctantly opened up, trying to force a smile.

 

She glared on me and pushed on by me, carrying two plastic bags. _Where's your phone?_ shedemanded.

 

_It was really busy at the bakery today. I didn't have time to check my messages,_ I lied. _Did you drive the whole way from Raleigh because I wasn't answering your texts?_

 

_I drove out here because it is the only way you will talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking._

 

I knew exactly why Glimmer was at my place. I knew what she wanted me to say, but I couldn't give her what she wanted. Finally, I had to just get it over with.

 

_I'm not moving to Raleigh,_ I told her flatly.

 

_You said you'd think about it,_ she pouted. Her blue eyes were already stormy, and I knew what was coming.

 

_I did think about it. It just wouldn't work. You know I can't leave my family,_ I explained for what felt like the millionth time.

 

Her cheeks flushed with rage, and her signs so sharp they seemed to cut the air. _They can find someone else to drive the truck. Don't use them as an excuse._

 

_I want to be here. This is my home. Can't you understand that?_ I asked, becoming just as angry.

 

We fought for about an hour—going back and forth over old arguments that seemed to solve nothing. Glimmer wanted me to move to Raleigh and find a “decent” job, because she didn't think I had a future here. It wasn't a new thing between us. She'd started on me about a week after she'd graduated from Gallaudet and gone on strong for over a year. There was nothing I could say to her to make her understand that I didn't want to leave my family or my home town. It didn't matter to me that there was almost no Deaf community in the area or that I wouldn't find any room for “advancement” at the bakery. This was where I wanted to be. I didn't think there would ever come a time when Glimmer would see that, but I was wrong.

 

_I guess there isn't much else to say then,_ she said finally. Taking the bags that had been all but forgotten, she dumped the few clothes and other things that I had left at her place during my last visit onto my couch. _I think it's best if we don't talk for a while._

 

For a moment, all I could do was stare. Maybe things hadn't been perfect between us, but I certainly hadn't expected things to unfold like this. A decade of my life had just ended out of two god damned plastic grocery bags. I picked up a Hurricanes t-shirt that she wore more than I ever did and felt my gut clench.

 

_So this it?_

 

She nodded. _You just aren't willing to do what it takes to make this work. I deserve better than that._

 

In the end, she was right. Glimmer did deserve better, and I wasn't willing to make it work. When she turned to go, I didn't go after her.

 

 


End file.
